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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29503680">Cut Your Bangs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notmycatsname/pseuds/Notmycatsname'>Notmycatsname</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Introduction [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>2010s, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Background Relationships, Band Fic, Bassist Remus Lupin, Getting Together, Hook-Up, M/M, Minor James Potter/Lily Evans, Modern Era, Music, Shitty college music, band au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:47:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,873</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29503680</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notmycatsname/pseuds/Notmycatsname</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"There’s something about him that catches Sirius’s eye. His voice is a little whiny, almost off-key. Sirius has heard it time and time again in the bands that Lily plays through their speakers at their apartment but it sounds more genuine, almost heart breaking, through his voice. Remus’s voice."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sirius Black/Remus Lupin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Introduction [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171736</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cut Your Bangs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They’re at a coffee shop tonight, some stuffy little place between a Thai restaurant and an athletics store. It seems like a shitty place for a show, a place that usually hosts gaggles of literature majors pouring over textbooks and retirees studying a free edition of yesterday’s newspaper. The plush couches that normally situate themselves in the middle of the coffee house are pushed back against the walls giving room to a make-shift stage area. Lily had pushed them through the crowd of almost comically stereotypically dressed pop punk hipsters to stand just to the side of the microphone. Sirius can already tell it’s going to be a long set of whiny white boys who don’t know how to sing and overrated drum fills covering up any hint of real musical talent. </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to be such a buzzkill about everything,” James had said on the drive over. One of Lily’s friends was in the opening band and she and James actually enjoyed the music. </p><p> </p><p>“I am not a buzzkill,” Sirius retorted, nudging the driver’s seat with his knee from behind.</p><p> </p><p>Lily snorted in the passenger seat. “You are about things you don’t like. If it’s music from this century, it might as well fuck off.” She turned around in her seat, eyebrows furrowed and tossed her hair into her face. “‘It’s all trust-fund kids singing about how much they hate their parents, back in <em> my </em> day-” Sirius aimed a hair tie at her face and missed terribly but it shut her up all the same. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh fuck off, I’m not some grumbly old guy,” Sirius stretched his leg out to kick at her seat instead and Lily flicked his knee in retaliation.</p><p> </p><p>“Children,” James scolded. “Lily, tell Sirius you don’t think he’s a grumpy grandpa. Sirius, I’m placing a moratorium on complaining about the music until after Marlene’s band’s second song. Sounds fair?” He made eye contact with Sirius through the rear-view window and Sirius didn’t miss his smirk. “I’ll even buy you a drink when we get there.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s at a coffee shop, will they even have drinks?”</p><p> </p><p>Lily reached into her bag on the floorboards and held up a flask, smiling brightly. “Already ahead of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Shrugging, Sirius had reached out for the flask but his hand was smacked away by James, flailing around a bit. “Jesus Christ, I am <em> not </em>getting busted for open container just because you two can’t keep it under control for five minutes.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and Sirius and Lily both had to hold back a laugh when they made eye contact. </p><p> </p><p>The shots the three of them did in the car before bracing the cold November air feel miles away to Sirius now as he’s jostled lightly by the crowd as the opening band makes their way onto the stage. Sirius already has his teeth grit in irritation just thinking about the twangy guitar riffs and screeching vocals but he tries to take a calming breath and force positive thoughts into his head. He’s sure they’ll go out to get drinks after this and since James is on driving duty, Sirius has no qualms about getting absolutely fucked up. He figures he deserves it often putting up with this shitty music for that long. </p><p> </p><p>At least Lily’s friend’s band as a girl lead singer, he figures as he watches the band take the stage. He knows Marlene vaguely. He’s seen her at a house party or two before, always wearing those tight black turtlenecks and big baggy jeans, with her bangs just barely covering her heavy, perfectly drawn eyeliner. Sirius had thought about asking her how she does it but their circles never really crossed and she was always hanging around her friends and apparent bandmates. He knows their drummer as Marlene’s girlfriend, a small butch girl who only comes up to Marlene’s chin even with her poofy hair. He thinks he’s seen their guitar player before as well, some huge muscly guy who would look more at home in a football game than at some underground coffee house. And their bass player almost looks like every other lanky white guy in the place. </p><p> </p><p>Sirius reaches into Lily’s purse one more time before they start playing and pulls out the flask for a final generous sip and nods his head to the music. The bass player meets his eyes and raises an eyebrow and Sirius can only stare at the ground. As the music starts up, maybe it’s just the alcohol talking but the music that’s playing doesn’t seem as horrid to him as what he usually hears from these types of bands. The lyrics seem more genuine in a way, as Marlene stands in front of the crowd and sings about her father’s drinking problem. It just seems more...authentic. The bass player has a silly little frown on his face as he concentrates on the eighth notes, bounding around the scale and Sirius thinks it’s almost cute. They get through the first two songs and Sirius finds that there’s really not much he can complain about with the <em> Shards of Scorn</em> except for their stupid name, but at least not as much as any other shitty pop punk band. James and Lily are throwing their arms in the air and jumping about to the music and Sirius finds himself shaking his head to it as well.</p><p> </p><p>The band ends their fourth song before Marlene pulls the mic of the stand. “Alright,” she says, “Remus’ll quit the band if we don’t do at least one cover per gig so here it is.” She’s laughing and looking over at the guy on the bass. He’s shaking his head but smiling and wipes the sweat off of his brow as Marlene places her baseball cap onto his head. </p><p> </p><p>“This is by Radiator Hospital,” the bass player says. Remus. He closes his eyes and steps up to the microphone as the lead guitar rips through the silence. Sirius studies him then, standing at the lead microphone. He shakes his head back and forth, his mop of curly amber hair flopping into his eyes as he starts to sing, head down. There’s something about him that catches Sirius’s eye. His voice is a little whiny, almost off-key. Sirius has heard it time and time again in the bands that Lily plays through their speakers at their apartment but it sounds more genuine, almost heart breaking, through his voice. Remus’s voice. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You say you cut your bangs, I’m calling your bluff. When you lie to me it's in the small stuff.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Lily catches his eye and Sirius smiles back at her this time. It’s not a grimace or an irritated shake of the head. It’s a genuine smile and Sirius almost can’t admit to himself that he’s enjoying the music. James grabs hold of his shoulders and shakes him around. He laughs along with James and he can hardly believe it. There’s something about the <em> Shards of Scorn </em> that hits him differently than the other shitty college pop punk bands. The bass player, Remus, Sirius has to remind himself (what a weird fucking name) makes eye contact with him again as he wails into the microphone a final time. <em> “And when you lie to me, it’s in the small stuff.” </em>The last chord of the song echoes into the room and Sirius finds himself clapping as hard as anyone else as he smiles with genuine happiness back at Remus. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck yeah!” Marlene yells. “Remus <em> only </em> does covers, but one day I’ll get him to do an original,” she says into the microphone, grinning at the now blushing bass player. Any signs of the confident, wailing singer are long gone as Remus stares, head down, at his shoes. “Alright,” Marlene continues, “we have one more and then we’re gonna let the <em> Bottom Runners </em>have at you. It’s an original.” She counts off the band and they start off into another song. Sirius can admit to himself at this point of the show that it’s actually pretty good. Marlene is still howling into the microphone about her mommy issues but Sirius believes her when her voice breaks. The drummer slams down on the snare drum and the guitarist gets onto his knees but Sirius can only look at Remus, face still scrunched up in a silly frown as he plucks furiously at his bass strings. </p><p> </p><p>The final chord of the song echoes through the crowd and Marlene wipes her face on her shirt as Remus takes the mic again. “Thanks so much,” he says, before throwing his arm around Marlene and laughing his way off the stage. Sirius claps as loud as anyone in the crowd and he doesn’t miss Lily’s eye as she winks at him. </p><p> </p><p>“They’re good, right?” She has to yell to be heard over the sound of the crowd. </p><p> </p><p>Sirius shrugs back at her but he’s grinning. “I still want that free drink,” he says as he points a finger at James. The main band takes the stage soon after and Sirius is hoping for more of the electricity he felt just moments before but he can already feel a headache coming on half-way through their first song. Lily and James still seem to be enjoying themselves though so he blames it on nicotine to try not to lower his own mood and ruffles a hand through James’ hair as he forces his way back through the crowd and out the front door. </p><p> </p><p>There’s only one other person outside the coffee shop and Sirius gives them a nod as he takes a handful of steps away from the door and pulls out a cigarette and his lighter. He draws the smoke into his lungs and pulls out his phone, shooting off a quick text message before stuffing his phone back in his pocket. He exhales the smoke into the air and glances over at the other person, gently tapping the toe of their shoe on the pavement. </p><p> </p><p>It’s the bass player from the last band. Remus. He’s still got Marlene’s baseball cap perched on the top of his head but he’s thrown on a fleece-denim jacket, wrapped tightly around him, paper coffee cup clutched between two hands. He blows a thin stream of air out between pursed lips and watches the vapor dissipate into the air like the smoke from Sirius’s cigarette. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey.” Sirius blows smoke out of the corner of his mouth. “You were really good.”</p><p> </p><p>Remus looks up at him with big eyes, flashing a bit in recognition a millisecond later. “I’m sure it seemed that way with help from that flask.” His voice is dry but Sirius thinks there’s a hint of a grin playing at his lips. </p><p> </p><p>“No, really. I don’t even like this kind of music, but that was <em> really </em>good.” Sirius thinks on what he’s just said and shrugs a little. It didn’t come out the way he had intended but it’s true. Remus just tilts his head back to rest on the big glass window, crooked almost-grin on his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“What a compliment. You’re one of Marlene’s friends?”<br/><br/></p><p>Sirius shakes his head and drops the butt of his cigarette in a puddle on the pavement and crushes it with his shoe. “Friend of a friend.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s littering,” Remus mumbles, eyes still trained on the squashed cigarette but there’s something in his voice that makes Sirius reach down and grab it off the wet concrete and toss it in the trash instead. “What is your type of music then? If that,” he points his thumb towards the shop, “isn’t up to your standards.” He’s turned to face Sirius now although he can’t help but notice he’s not quite looking at his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s not…” Sirius sighs. “I just think that folky pop punk scene can all start to seem a little childish. It’s not even the really simple chord progressions and the same arpeggio bass riffs. I just can’t handle the singer just warbling about their parents and being depressed in a Taco Bell parking lot. Just like constant whiny straight white boy bullshit.”</p><p> </p><p>Remus hums a little as he takes a sip of his coffee. “You sound like a fifteen year old review of a Neutral Milk Hotel album.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, and you look like Jeff Mangum reincarnated.” Remus exhales forcefully out of his nose and Sirius suddenly realizes how pissed off he could sound to someone who doesn’t actually know him. “Sorry I -” But Remus is laughing at him now, head tilted back with a lopsided smile showing off his crooked incisors. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, Dave Grohl,” Remus says, still grinning. Fair enough, Sirius thinks as he smiles as well, running a hand through his long black hair. “And Mangum’s not even dead. Show some respect to the guy who wrote one of the best albums in history.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, you don’t really think that, do you?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I don’t.” They’ve migrated closer to each other since the start of the conversation to hear each other better over the thrum of the music inside, and they’re now standing nearly shoulder-to-shoulder and Remus kicks his foot out to scuff his dirty Converse against Sirius’s boot. They've just met but Sirius already feels like the know each other, their back-and-forth seems natural. “I think <em> On Avery Island </em> was better than <em> Aeroplane </em> anyway. I also think you’re generalizing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I’m generalizing, you can’t talk about a genre of music as a whole without generalizing.” He kicks back at Remus’s shoes with the toe of his. “I think you’re gonna get the best music from the groups that go outside of that genre.”</p><p> </p><p>“You gonna tell me about how Dylan went electric?” Remus is grinning again but it’s softer, though still teasing.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay but that <em> is</em> sorta like what I’m talking about. Even you guys, though. I mean,” he nudges Remus’s shoulder, “you’re still a college-town midwest emo band but you’re not four straight dudes standing up there.”</p><p> </p><p>Remus snorts. “That’s like a pre-rec for hanging out with Marlene. No straight cis white men allowed.” Sirius nods and stuffs his hands into his jacket pocket, trying to tilt the lapel of it just so so that Remus can maybe catch a glimpse of the small rainbow pin there if he hasn’t already. He’s noticed that Remus is sporadic on eye contact so Sirius chances a glance at him to take him in closer. </p><p> </p><p>He had thought Remus was a little plain earlier, just like every other guy who ever sings this type of music but there’s something about his deep-set amber eyes, crooked nose and even more crooked, wry smile that strikes Sirius now. His features are a little odd looking, Sirius thinks not unkindly, but in a way that works as a whole.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Remus!” Marlene’s voice is strong as she strolls up from around the back of the coffee shop, guitar case on her back. “You been out here the whole time? You missed packing the shit into the van.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no,” Remus shoots back drily and Sirius holds back a snort. He takes another sip of his coffee and blinks innocently at her. He’s got the longest lashes Sirius has ever seen and he tears his own gaze away from them before he can get caught staring. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, fuckhead.” She yanks the cap off of his head and places it back on her own head as she hefts the case over to him. “You’re gonna get dinner for us next time in payment, yeah?” Remus nods at her as he shoulders his bass but Sirius is sure he doesn’t miss the look Marlene gives him, the look she gives both of them standing so close together. She’s got a cocky set to her mouth, a snarky grin and her eyebrows are raised just slightly. “You two, uh, gonna join us? We’re gonna head down to that bar on First Street with Lily and her boyfriend. We’re leaving in ten if you wanna come.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, maybe.” Remus shrugs a little and turns to throw his coffee cup in the trash. Sirius uses the moment when he’s back is turned to pull out his phone and shoot Lily and James a text in their group chat. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sirius: remus isn’t some closet serial killer is he?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Sirius: think i’m gonna try n go home w/ him</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Lily: !!!!</b>
</p><p>
  <b>James: r you gonna fuuuck?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Sirius: stfu</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Lily: He’s chill and super nice, no serial killer vibes</b>
</p><p>
  <b>James: they said that about manson too :\</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Sirius: i’ll text</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, I’m gonna load the rest of my shit into the car and try to drag Dorcas out of there.” Sirius looks up from his phone to see Marlene throw her arm around Remus and jostle him around. He’s got this furrowed little look on his face like a kid being teased by his older sister as she ruffles his hair and stomps off. “See you around, Keanu.”</p><p> </p><p>Sirius laughs a goodbye and tries to keep a straight face as Remus smooths a hand over his messy hair. It doesn’t change it remotely. “You,” Remus points a finger at his chest, “were of no help at all there.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think you handled it pretty well.” Sirius reaches a hand out to run his fingers through the wayward strands of hair on Remus’s head to help straighten out the mess of hat-hair. He thinks he sees the hint of a blush on Remus’s cheeks and he hopes he’s playing his cards right. “You joining them for that drink?”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a hint of something in Remus’s eyes, almost a challenge. “I was looking forward to getting home, actually. It’s fucking freezing out. You?”</p><p> </p><p>“Lily and James are my ride,” Sirius shrugs. “It is cold out though.” He sighs and bounces on his heels and there’s a long enough pause for him to feel a little nervous before Remus shakes his head and laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, then. I live like a block away.”</p><p> </p><p>It is cold out but there’s hardly any wind and the city seems almost peaceful like this. Remus does live close to the coffee shop, just a quick walk a few minutes away in a shitty little apartment above a pizza place. It smells like pepperoni grease and something burnt but he elbows Sirius in the ribs when he wrinkles up his nose. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s part of the charm,” he says with a sardonic smile as he shoulders the door open, banging his hip into it when it sticks in the frame. Remus has to duck as he walks through the threshold, the bass guitar on his back just a bit too tall for the frame and Sirius thinks it’s almost charming in an awkward way. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh this is <em> just </em> what I expected,” Sirius says with a shit-eating grin when he gets inside. Posters from bands Sirius hasn’t even heard of cover the walls, overlapped with photographs and an old calendar still stuck on August. There’s a lumpy couch in the middle of the room in front of what looks to be a handmade coffee table with a television on top. “Of course there’s a beanbag chair!”</p><p> </p><p>Remus just laughs at him as he leans his bass against the wall, next to a trumpet, a ukulele (Sirius rolls his eyes), and some other instruments in cases. “That’s the most comfortable seat in the place, and just for that, I won’t let you have it. You want a drink?” He bumps his shoulder gently against Sirius’s as me makes his way into the shoe box of a kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>“You have PBR?” Sirius takes a seat on the couch and thumbs through the books on the end table. Mainly history textbooks.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck you,” he mutters and Sirius tosses his head back in laughter when Remus emerges from the kitchen with two PBRs in hand. “I don’t care what you think, we are a house full of fucking liberal arts majors. These things are cheap and you can buy in bulk.” He tosses Sirius a can and flops down next to him, elbowing him hard in the ribs and causing Sirius to slosh his beer down his shirt.<br/><br/>“Fuck,” he mutters, licking the spill off the side of the can and wiping his hand on his jeans. He goes to say another teasing remark to Remus when he notices his eyes are glued on his mouth, his own tongue coming out to wet his lips. Sirius grins and Remus’s flick back up to meet Sirius’s. “So I didn’t misread this, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“You invited yourself back to my fucking apartment, how else were you reading this?” Remus’s voice comes out sharp but he’s grinning as he cracks open his own beer and takes a few long drinks. Sirius lets his own eyes wander now to Remus’s throat as he swallows and sets his drink down on the end table. Remus copies him and raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Can we, like...go out though? Maybe next weekend, maybe tomorrow? I like talking to you.” He shrugs a little shyly and stares at the stained rug. He jumps a little when Remus places a hand on Sirius’s face, cups his jaw. His fingers are rough and calloused and Sirius leans into it. </p><p> </p><p>“Coffee? In the morning?” Sirius nods and Remus gives him a soft smile before pressing their lips together. Sirius watches Remus shut his eyes as his own flutter closed and brings a hand up to tangle itself in Remus’s mop of curly hair. The couch is oddly lumpy, their knees are in the way, and there’s something poking him in the back but his bran can only focus on the press of Remus’s chapped lips against his, the slick, rough texture of his tongue as it licks into his mouth, the airy noise he makes when Sirius nips at his bottom lip. </p><p> </p><p>They end up squashed against each other on the couch as Sirius discovers the stick-and-poke tattoo on Remus’s thigh, his pointy elbows, his soft stomach, how <em> fucking </em>good he is with his mouth. He chuckles against Sirius’s thigh as he leaves him gasping and breathless with one hand stroking Remus’s cheek gently and the other fisted in the afghan on the back of the couch.</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” Sirius mutters when he has his breath back. He wipes the cocky smirk off Remus’s mouth as he pushes him onto his back and tastes himself on his tongue, sliding his hand between them. He wraps his fingers around Remus’s cock, sucks and bites kisses into his neck, grins against his jaw when he shudders and climaxes in his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“This couch fucking sucks,” Sirius mutters after a few moments of silence, Remus petting his hair and scratching gently at his scalp. He laughs and stretches underneath him.</p><p> </p><p>“Bed, then,” Remus’s voice is hoarse and Sirius thinks about him sucking him off again and a second spark of arousal floods through him again. But as much as he’d love to figure out all the different ways he and Remus can set each other’s nerves alight, Sirius feels his heart flutter when he thinks of the two of them curled up around each other on Remus’s tiny twin-sized mattress.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading!</p><p>notmycatsname on tumblr</p></blockquote></div></div>
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